Everything That Glitters Part 2
by chezchuckles
Summary: The Dash half of Everything That Glitters. A future-set Dash companion exploring the adult versions of the Castle kids.
1. Chapter 1

**Everything That Glitters Part 2**

**a Dash Companion**

* * *

They walk home. It's not that far and he needs to expend some energy if he's going to get to sleep anytime soon. Shannon meanders at his side, her arm hooked in his, the night air too crisp in his lungs. Invigorating, when instead he needs to be wearing himself out.

Her apartment building is ten blocks from his parents'. She's been in the same neighborhood, roughly, since she got her job at the hospital; the area is bohemian, a little run down, but it has plenty of light. That was her main criteria, he remembers - was it well-lit at night? Would she feel safe walking home alone?

He smirks to himself as he realizes - she feels safe now, more than she thought possible when she moved to the big city, and it's mostly because of him. He's shown her the New York he loves - the city his mother taught him to love from subway lines to Central Park - and despite the crime, the murders, the poverty she sees at work, Shannon has grown to love it as well.

They walk up the stairs together, eschewing the elevator in favor of more work, and Dash's gaze wanders to the hall window as they approach the front door. The night beyond is painted with licks of yellow lamplight. Dash hears her unlocking the door and she nudges him ahead of her; he stills just inside, his mind spinning with everything that's happened.

His sister is home for the weekend. He hasn't seen her since Christmas.

Dashiell feels Shannon's fingers squeezing hard at his elbow and he grins over at her.

"You're not a bit tired, are you?" she laughs, dropping her keys to the table just inside the entry.

"Nope. Not a bit. I'm gonna study, I guess. Oh wait. Is my stuff here?" He's been living with her for the last year, but he still has so much stuff at his parents' place (and she does too); he has trouble getting it together long enough to remember where things are at.

She shrugs, but she's got that sly look on her face. "Studying is boring."

"Says the pharmacist who was first in her class," he shoots back. Then he gives her a little grin back. "But. What've you got in mind?"

"Paint."

He tilts his head. That's a new one. Shannon's always coming up with these projects late at night - things to wear him out, keep him busy; she knows him so well. "Paint?"

"Our room. I want to paint it."

He laughs. "Okay. Yeah. But there's no paint stores open at like one in the morning."

"I bought paint last week."

"Huh, you did?" He twists in the hallway and moves past her, heading for their bedroom. "Why'd you buy paint?"

"For just such a night as this."

Dash moves quickly, yanks open her closet door - the only hiding space available in her tiny place. He sees the paint cans on the bottom of the floor. "Awesome. You are awesome."

She laughs behind him and he kneels down on the floor, drags a paint can towards himself. "Turquoise?"

"It's not that turquoise. It's blue, a duller shade than that," she explains, squatting down beside him. "Wouldn't do that to you."

"Paint the bedroom. Where you gonna sleep while I'm painting?" Even though he knows better, Dash tries digging his fingers under the lid to pry it up.

"I'm gonna help. I can stay up. It's the weekend."

He flashes her another grin, loops his arm around her neck and draws her in for a smacking kiss on the mouth. She laughs at him, pushing him off, but that's okay because she's standing up to go get supplies.

"We need a sheet for a drop cloth," he calls out after her.

"I know what we need, Dash."

He grins again and starts dragging out the rest of the paint cans. Project number 527 - paint the bedroom almost-turquoise.

* * *

She giggles and scoots away from him, a warning hand held out to him. "No, no - Dashiell Hammett, I swear if you do it-"

He does it.

She shrieks as he slaps wet paint across her neck, grinning as it runs down under her shirt.

"Dashiell!"

He laughs at her, can't help the grin at how cute she is, the turquoise stripe down her neck and her hair piled up on top of her head. She's wrinkling her nose at him, so he paints that too.

"Da-ash," she whines, but it's a ruse. He knows it's a ruse but he falls for it anyway, leaning in to console her right when she slaps a thick, wet paintbrush across his cheek.

"Oof."

She laughs and scampers away, heading for the other side of the room where they've had to push the bed back. She waits, cautious and still laughing at him, but he shrugs elaborately at her.

"No retaliation," he promises. "I started it."

"I don't believe you."

"Cross my heart."

She steps a little closer, but she's still watching him warily. To prove his story, he turns back to the wall and begins painting again. It would be faster with rollers, but she didn't buy those - she didn't know. It's okay, gives them something to do.

Dash slowly paints the wall where her dresser normally resides, humming a little to himself as he watches Shannon from the corner of his eye. She takes another slow step for him, hesitant and not trusting his sudden detente.

As well she shouldn't. She slapped him on the face.

He's just waiting for his moment.

It takes some time, but eventually she comes back to his side, the two of them painting in tandem as the hour stretches out. He's close to being tired, worn out enough to sleep, and they've managed to get two walls done. It's only two in the morning, a little past, and they'll go to bed soon.

Maybe camp out in the living room, actually.

He smirks, slowing down his strokes, plotting his next move. She's got these mile-long legs, bare feet with skinny toes, and he loves all that skin. Perfect. The mole on the back of her right thigh is an ideal target.

"Okay, so at the game tomorrow-" she starts, talking mostly to the wall, totally oblivious.

And he paints a long blue streak right up her leg to her butt, getting it in good under her short shorts.

"You _punk_," she hisses, twisting around.

He laughs and holds up the paint brush, twirling it around, daring her.

Shannon glances around the room, probably surveying her options, how best to get him back, her eyes narrowing as she thinks.

"Give it up. You can't take me," he says, shaking his head at her. "I got six inches on you, pipsqueak."

That's all it takes. She pounces.

* * *

In the bathroom, the water runs hot and steam billows before the mirror. Dashiell strips off his shirt and flings it towards her laundry hamper in the corner, narrowly missing Shannon's face as she steps inside.

She laughs and slaps at him, but he snags her by the wrist and hauls her into his chest.

"Mm, warm in here," she murmurs, pressing a kiss to his sternum. His skin buzzes with it, sensation redoubled by the steam and his tiredness, and he scratches his nails at her scalp, dislodging some paint.

"Get undressed," he orders, slipping his hand down her back to catch at the hem of her shirt.

"You're not the boss of me," she snarks back, wriggling against him now. Little tease.

Dash grabs the bottom of her shirt with both hands and pulls it slowly over her head, her hair falling a little, the mess of curls tangling with the straps of her tank top. He throws it towards the hamper, misses by a foot, and goes back for her panties.

Shannon hums and works her fingers under his, helping him out even as the shower runs. "Hurry up," she whispers, dragging her lips against his chest. "Wasting water."

He shivers at the touch of her mouth, forgets what he's doing in the rush of feeling. But she's already stepping out of her underwear, and he gets to watch the pink cotton slip down the back of her paint-streaked leg. And then she comes back for him.

"Shan," he murmurs, eyes slamming shut as she unzips his pants.

"Shower, D. You're covered in paint."

"Whose fault is that?"

"Mine," she chuckles, stroking her fingers over his hipbones as his pants drop. He wants to take his time, find every place on her body that makes her gasp, devote himself to her.

"Let's-" he starts, but she's already pushing him towards the shower stall.

"This first. Shower. Then I wanna wear you out."

He grins and grips her by the waist, lifts her up. She wraps her legs around his hips and kisses him even as he steps them back into the shower. Her hair gets soaked first, the water running down between them, her lashes so long and dark and blinking as she smiles, their kiss interrupted.

"Hey," he says, feeling her body against his and the way she waits for him, helps him, knows him.

"Yeah?" she says, pushing a hand through her hair even as it tumbles down, stripes of brown and turquoise and creamy skin.

"I love you."

She kisses him softly, hair wet as it clings with the shower pouring down around them. "Love you too, D."


	2. Chapter 2

**Everything That Glitters Part 2**

* * *

He wakes early, slips out of bed without jostling her and forgets that the bed is on the other side of the room. Dash runs smack into the dresser, wincing, and hops around, toe throbbing, tries to get out of there quietly.

When he hits the hallway, Dashiell lets out a little yelp and grunts, his foot really pulsing now. He tries to be good, tries to be quiet as he slips into the living room. He grumbles over his foot and inspects his toes, but there's no one to commiserate with him. Shannon won't be up for a while yet, but he knows someone who is.

Dash grabs his phone off the side table where he left it charging last night and calls his mom. He sees the stack of paintbrushes on the floor as the phone rings, remembers.

"Hey, my man," she answers immediately.

"Hey, Mom." He limps on his toe but he's already forgotten the injury in his renewed excitement. "So, guess what Shannon had for me?"

She gives a little laugh over the line and he grins, happy as he heads for the kitchen and some coffee. "What'd she have for you? And this better be the PG version, Dashiell."

"Ew, Mom. Come on."

"Yeah, never know with you, kiddo."

"Anyway, Shannon and I painted the bedroom."

"You did? After you left?"

"Yeah, it's like this sea blue color. Thought it was going to be really intense turquoise, but it's not."

"Shan knows better than that," his mom laughs.

"Yeah, yeah, true. I'd never sleep if it was bright like that. But no, it's good. So we got home and shoved all the furniture to one side of the room and put down these old sheets of hers. And we painted the bedroom."

"How much did you get done?"

"Half of it. We'll finish tonight, I guess."

"Hmm, sure you will."

"What? I can't stand for things to be undone. You know me."

"I do but... tonight's the game."

"Yeah. So?" Only an exhibition game so it's not that big a deal - doesn't count - but of course, it'll give him an idea of how good the team's going to be this year.

"So, nothing," his mom says. "You make coffee yet?"

"Right now," he mutters, squinting as he pushes the machine on. Everything's already pre-packaged, and his dad hates it, but Dash likes how fast it is. No waiting. Well, not that much.

"Hey, Shannon up?"

"Course not. Dad up?"

"Course not," his mom echoes, a little smirk in her voice.

"We got in a paint fight," he says excitedly, jumping to another subject. Like he always does.

"Paint fight. Uh-huh. I bet that was fun."

"It was. PG version, Mom."

She laughs, a rich thing that makes him smile too. He loves when he can make his mom laugh like that, startled free of her usual control. It's like a game he plays; he keeps a kind of running tally. Hundreds of laughs over the course of his adult life, but that's one for today.

"Okay, Dash, PG version."

He grins and chortles when the coffee machine dings. "Haha, it's done. Yours still brewing?"

"Shut up," she mutters. "You know it is."

He puts his coffee mug into the waiting receptacle and pushes the button, sighs out as the coffee fills his cup.

"Stop making those obscene noises," his mom says. "Rubbing it in."

"You should just buy one of these, no matter what Dad says. I mean, really. Not having one? That's obscene."

"You should've gotten me one for Christmas, ungrateful boy."

He laughs, startled free himself, chalks one up to his mother. "Yeah, you're right. I should have. When's the next gift-giving event?"

"Dad's birthday," she says. "But don't. It'll make him sad."

"He'll get over it." Dashiell brings the cup to his lips and blows on the hot liquid, but he can't wait that long. He goes ahead and takes a big gulp, wincing as it burns, grunting as it goes down his throat.

"You didn't wait for it to cool," his mother chides.

He chokes down another hot swallow and listens to her sighing at him over the line. But some things can't be changed; it'll heal.

"Want to meet for breakfast, Dash?"

He stumbles against the kitchen counter and stares down at his coffee, watching it slosh. "Oh." A grin slips over his face as he checks the time. Six in the morning on a Saturday and it's always been him and mom. "Yeah. Ellery's not up yet, is she?"

"No, sorry."

"Not sorry. You and me. Like always."

He knows she's smiling on the other end of the line. He can hear it.

"Yeah, meet you at our regular spot?" she says finally.

"See you in twenty minutes."


	3. Chapter 3

**Everything That Glitters Part 2**

* * *

"Mother," Dash intones gravely, wriggling an eyebrow as he leans in to kiss her cheek.

She embraces him, an extra squeeze for his teasing, and then they sit side by side at the counter. Her fingers stroke at the hair that curls on his neck and he closes his eyes a moment, lets himself relax into it.

He knows a lot about his issues, he's studied the science and the medical research, the psychology and the therapy. He's done it all at some point in the name of discovery - just to know. He likes knowing.

But nothing gets to him faster than his mom's fingers on his neck, her presence at his side.

Not for the first time, he wonders what happens to him when she's gone.

"Stop," she murmurs, nudging her elbow into his. "Look at the menu so we can order."

He opens his eyes and glances at her, sees the flash of worry before she can tuck it away. She's always tuned into him, always been the one, and he sees now how that must have looked to his little sister.

A lot of this can be placed at his feet, a lot of the dysfunction in their function, but his family loves him and he loves them and they love each other and that counts for more. He hopes. Ella's back, isn't she?

"I know what I want already," he says in return.

She's watching him, but she doesn't say anything. So Dash turns down the counter and motions for the waitress, gives his order when she makes it to them. This place is out of the way and local, they've yet to see tourists, but the coffee is fantastic even if the food isn't so much. After all these years, Dash knows what he can eat here, and of course his mother doesn't eat anything at all, so it's just spicy sausage and eggs with tobasco sauce, two cups of coffee.

His mother is all long limbs and graceful movements as she fixes her coffee just right, and even though Dash inherited those same lines, he's akimbo and splayed and knocking into things. He's a klutz. Ella used to say it made them even; she gets their mother's elegance even though she doesn't have her severity.

"You like having your sister back?" she murmurs.

"Yeah," he grins. Great minds think alike. "I've missed her. She used to annoy the crap out of me."

"Out of us all," his mom laughs. "But she grew up."

"Or I did. Something." He eyes the plate of food as the waitress places it before him, growls with relish.

"Sorry, kiddo. You didn't do much growing up."

She smirks as she says it, the corner of her mouth lifting, so Dash elbows her back, making her hand miss the cup so that creamer spills on the counter.

"Little brat," she mutters, jostling him back. It surprises him, because it's his dad he wrestles with, muscles into, and his mom is the one who sidesteps all of that. She's the one who collared him when he was a kid and reigned him back in line, while Dad was always poking and prodding to get him to step back over that line.

"You like having her back too," Dash says stupidly, the words blurting right out of him.

His mother raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, right. No, I know," he says, waving off that moment. "But I mean - more than just she's your kid."

His mom is rolling her eyes at him now. "How observant, Dash."

"Oh-ho, still so funny," he mutters back. _How observant, Dash_. That's another one of Ellery's sarcastic sayings. "No, but you really - did you think she wouldn't come back?"

His mom shrugs a little, too silent.

"You did. You thought she'd never..." Dash drops his fork and it clatters to the plate. His mother huffs at him, his drama, but he really never thought of it. It never entered his mind that Ellery would be gone for good. That they wouldn't get to grow up together and she'd baby-sit his kids and he'd go to her events - whatever it those were - and just - live side by side.

"Dash. Sometimes things happen."

"But she wasn't going to be gone for good," he says heatedly. "Never. I know her."

His mother is giving him that too-tender smile, and her hand comes up but doesn't touch him, drops instead to her own lap. "You do know her. I'm glad for that."

"You know her too," he insists. "She's ours. We weren't going to lose her."

"I think, sweetheart, it was touch and go there for a while."

What? "No. You're wrong," he says, shaking his head. It's important that his mother knows this, sees it clearly. Dad has always said that Mom feels things so deeply, that it takes a lot of work to get to her, but once you do-

"Dash, we don't have to talk about-"

"We do. We have to talk about it. This is what's wrong with all of it." He grabs his fork and stabs at his eggs, shoves a bite into his mouth and lets the burn tickle his throat. He gives his mother a moment, because he knows her too, and then he swallows and starts again. "You and Ella are exactly the same. And so you never say anything. Well, sometimes it needs to be said. You get hurt deep down. And Dad and I - we let it go. We let it all in and we let it all back out again. Remember? You told me that one time. How Dad and I love so widely."

He feels her hand on his wrist, a tight grip, but he won't stop now. She needs to know; she's his _mother_, and this is important. If he has to leave - if he's matched with a hospital far removed from here, he's going to make sure that she knows.

"You and Ellery love deep. Dad and I - so wide. You and Ella - so deep. Mom. It's - it's unshakeable. So the hurt gets that way too. Believe me - how many therapists have I seen?"

"Dash," she mutters. "Behavioral therapy isn't-"

"Mostly is," he shrugs off. "And Allie likes to play at shrink."

She sighs. "Allie. She's a smart girl though."

"Hey," he says, turning to glare at her. "You're trying to get me off track."

She gives a crooked grin.

"No fair," he complains. "You _know_ that works. Back to what I was saying about you and Ellery. It wasn't ever broken - it was just all deep down inside. Quiet. You guys have to talk about stuff. Like you and Allie talk."

"That's not something you do overnight, kiddo."

"Sure it is. Call her. Talk to her."

"Says the boy with a million words."

"You're the one married to a writer," he shoots back. "Borrow some."

She's rolling her eyes at him now, but that's okay. He's made his point. He thinks. Huh. Not sure. Maybe just once more to make sure it's gotten through to her.

"You know, one time Dad told me this really cool story about when he was your partner at the 12th."

His mother flashes him a look, wary. Dash waves it off.

"I've heard 'em all. Even the Butcher."

"Shit. I'm going to _kill_ your father."

"Mom, he wrote a _book _about it. I read those a long time ago. Besides, you have the scars right here," he adds, reaching out to touch her wrist.

She wraps her fingers around the mug but she angles her hand to look, so they can both look. Both wrists actually, silver half-moons that are so thin they barely show up.

"He cut you up," Dash says, matter of fact. He's a med student; it's long ago stopped being intimate. "Dad was handcuffed. He broke out of them to get to you before the guy could do serious damage."

His mom lets out a breath, half-shrugs. "Long time ago."

Dash lets go of her wrist and takes his own coffee, sips it quickly as he tries to find the thread of his conversation again. "Oh yeah, my story. Dad said that one time you guys were chasing down some Russian mob guys. Like cleaning up the streets - a specific operation that the mayor started. But one of the mafia guys was shot and killed."

"Your father wasn't there for that," she says suddenly. "But yes. Essentially."

His mother has a sudden pinched look to her face, too tight, and he realizes, stupidly, finally, that his _mother_ was the one who had shot and killed the mafia guy.

Oh.

Dad didn't say that.

Maybe Dad meant it though, maybe that was another one of those times when things go on below the surface of a conversation and everyone thinks Dash will get it. And usually, now, he does.

But not that. He missed that one. He'll keep that to himself, though. Mom's always gotten upset over him and Ellery knowing details like that.

"Dad says the mafia guy who died was the son of the big boss, and so the head guy called in a false tip and kidnapped you."

"Basically. Yes." His mother gives him a narrow look, but Dash isn't intimidated by it any more. She loves _deeply_. For good. For always.

"And then Dad says the bad part was that they left you alone in a room and played a recording that sounded like Dad had been shot in front of Ellery."

"Shit. Your father is in serious trouble."

"You curse a lot when you're not in control."

She throws him another look, slightly horrified maybe, and he grins back.

"Dad said that for months after that, you were kinda crazy about Ellery learning to talk. You were always on her case to get her to-"

"She already _knew_ how to talk. She just refused. And you - chatterbox - you did all her talking for her. I didn't even know what her voice sounded like and so yes, yes, I heard a recording that I knew had to be false but it was baby girl screaming and it-"

"Screaming?" he says softly. Dad said - he didn't say specifics like that. Dad's the one who tells the stories, but tells them... slant. A little crooked. Fit for children.

His mother presses her hands into her eyes and then scrapes her fingers back through her hair. It's short, no longer the long waves he can still remember tangling his fingers in, and it's shortness seems to surprise her too. She looks at a loss for what to do now.

"It's been so long since I've heard this story, that I guess what it meant - if you heard a recording that was meant to be Dad getting shot in front of Ella, then yeah, Ellery would be screaming, wouldn't she? No wonder you freaked out." Dash leans in so that their shoulders brush. "I didn't ever pick up on that before. It was just this story about why it was important that I shut up and let Ellery speak for herself."

His mother laughs at that, a short and sharp thing. "Yeah. Well. I wondered what you two had going on. Dad used to give you this look and you'd clam right up, and I knew he had said something."

Dash sits there for a long moment, remembering with her, until he realizes he has a _point_ and he's gotten off-track again. He reins himself back in and thinks for a second, tries to find the clearest words.

"Mom, there was a time when Ellery didn't speak and you didn't let it go. You went after her, you chased her down just to hear her voice. You wanted to hear her. So what changed?"

She turns a thunderstruck look at him. "Dashiell."

He grins.

"Holy shit," she groans and drops her head into her hands again.

"Score one for the big brother," he says smugly.

And gets smacked on the arm for it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Everything That Glitters Part 2**

* * *

"Wow, everyone's going, huh?" Dashiell glances down the sidewalk at his whole family ranging out behind Shannon and him as they head for the subway. His eyes land on Ellery and he elbows her. "When did you turn into a baseball fan?"

"Everyone else was going," she says, rolling her eyes at him. Mom is right at her side; he thinks the two of them must have been talking ever since breakfast the way they're buddied up. "And who says I don't like baseball?"

Shannon takes his hand and squeezes; he looks at her. "Don't mess with Ellery. Everyone's trying to be nice to you because tomorrow is Match Day. That's why she's coming."

"Oh, right. Yeah. _That_ makes more sense."

His father comes up on his other side and hands him and Shannon the last of the tickets. "Here you go. Okay, so when we get inside, keep close because I want to pay for everyone's food."

"Dad," he starts.

"No arguments. Let your old man buy your ballpark hot dog and beer."

"I'm getting sushi."

"Heathen," his mother mutters.

He grins back at her, wriggling an eyebrow. "Papa started it."

"He and I need to have words," she growls, and then his mother drops back to find her own father and - wow - are they really having words over his love of ballpark sushi? Papa is talking with her and Ellery now, and Dash is pleased to see how much they're together, relaxed - fixing things, he thinks.

Dad claps a hand at his shoulder. "Sushi, hot dog, doesn't matter. Shannon, you hear me?"

"I hear you," she surrenders.

"Excellent. I'm gonna pass the word. You guys lead the way."

Dash keeps his hand in Shannon's and laughs a little. "I told you my family was crazy."

"Not crazier than mine," she grins back.

"True. But see, your family is actually crazy. Like - certifiably. They have diagnoses and everything."

"Means I win," she says, nudging his hip with their joined hands. "Hey, I've got your subway pass with mine."

"Oh, good. I looked for it before we left but forgot I didn't find it."

She laughs and shakes her head at him, the curls of her hair falling in her eyes. He loves to wrap one of those loose curls around his finger, loves the smell of her shampoo and the softness against his face when he comes close. Loves that her own issues - her family, her upbringing - they don't get the better of her. And she hasn't just overcome it all - she's used it. She makes it work for her.

She makes it work for them.

"So where you hiding my subway pass?" he asks, smirking over at her. He slides his hand into her back pocket and she gasps and grabs him by the wrist, jerking him away. "What?" he laughs. "You usually like it when I go digging in your pants-"

"Dashiell," she squeaks, laughing again. "It's in my other pocket. With mine."

He grins and darts in for her other pocket; she lets him this time, wriggling a little closer, and he grips her and tugs her against his side. Dash dips his head down to kiss her cheek, murmuring hotly at her ear.

"I like mine with yours, rubbing up against each other in your pocket. So close."

"You have a dirty mouth," she mutters, but she angles her head and kisses him hard, teeth clashing with his. He loves that too.

She breaks away from him, and he takes his subway card as he goes, smiling at her for it too. Shannon's blushing and slipping back to talk to Sophie, waving him on, so he's the one who ends up leading them underground towards the subway.

But it's his sister who steps onto the first car with him, the two of them standing together, Ellery as tall as their mother and just as fierce.

"Ellie," he says quietly, watching her, studying her.

She turns to him even as the others file on after them, crowding the car, talking and laughing, Rafe holding Dani's hand, Mia being hustled in even though she's got an aversion to the subway, Nick and their father talking together, Papa and Mom and Allie debating something, Dad and Shannon whispering together - their whole, noisy, boisterous, amazing family.

"Thanks for coming," he says then, and he can't smile. He can't. It aches, all of them together finally. It feels a little desperate. He knows he's been fighting that desperation for a year - all year - because of tomorrow.

He'll have to leave all this and he can't - he doesn't know how he'll make it without them. His family. These people who love him and know him and think it's okay to be the weird guy he is, can't help being. He's adapted, but he still needs that hard, strong squeeze every once in a while, and who will be there?

Ellery doesn't smile back at him but her face changes. And suddenly her eyes look like Dad's. They've always been blue - his color - but never before has Dash seen Ella _look_ at him like Dad looks at him.

As she moves closer in the subway car, the engagement ring flashes in the overhead lights - their mother's and then Allie's after her - and Ella seems the most content, the most at peace that he's ever seen her.

She's always been strong. He just didn't realize she could also be soft.

"Big brother," she says and her hand goes to him, reaches around his arm and holds on like he's her solid ground. "Dashiell. I will always come for you."

Unspoken is the rest of it. New Mexico, Iowa City, wherever he gets placed. Just as Dash was the one that bridged the distance between Ellery and their family here, Ella can be that for him.

Only she'll probably show up in person. She's like that.

It gives him what he needs to smile. And really mean it.

* * *

"You look happy," Shannon says, nudging him softly as they stand in line.

"Yeah," he grins back, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and squeezing.

"Ew, stop," Dani mutters behind them. "All lovey and gross."

"Shut up, sushi girl," Dashiell laughs back, hooking his arm around his niece and dragging her into his side. "I've got Dad's credit card, so you have to be nice to me. Or you get nothing."

"I'll just go tell on you," she says back, muffled by her face planted in his shirt. She struggles against him for a minute and then finally gives up. So he lets her go.

Shannon has taken his hand and her fingers play against his knuckles. "Don't worry, Dani. I'll cover you if Dash decides to be mean."

"Not mean, just retribution. Doling out a fair punishment."

"You're not the cop," Dani huffs, knocking her head into him where she's still up close. He remembers Dani being this squawking, furious thing when she was a newborn. He and Ellery would tag along with Mom and Grams to Allie and Rafe's place to help out for the first few weeks, mostly to watch Sophie and keep her out of Allie's hair, but Ella and Sophie went off together and he didn't want to be stuck with them.

So Dash had Dani; he was the one who sat on the couch and held Dani in his lap while Mom hovered over him to make sure he didn't break her. But how could he break her? She was so angry and strong and active.

Mom kept saying, _You were a lot like this as a baby - but you never slept._

Dani's always been his.

"Hey, move up. It's your turn," Dani says petulantly, shoving into him. Dash grins and steps up to the register to order his ballpark sushi, but he draws his arm back and gathers Dani to him, keeps her at his side. Prickly, book-absorbed, talks-too-much, dark Dani.

His favorite.

Shannon, on his other side, is laughing softly at him and smoothing her thumb along his even though she knows what that does to him, how it makes his whole nervous system amp up. It's not like he needs that right now, in this crowd, but it does make him extra aware of her. Of how real she is, how with him.

"You guys on the same order?" The attendant is looking at them with that _can we hurry this along_ blankness to his eyes and Dash gets himself back in the game.

"We're all together," he tells the man.


	5. Chapter 5

**Everything That Glitters Part 2**

* * *

Dash has Dani lurking at one side and Shannon attached to his hip on the other, and then there's his sister whom he wants so badly to spend the next two hours with, listening to her snarky comments about his Yankees (he's _missed_ it, go figure) and then he can see that Nick and Sophie are wanting a piece of her too, and poor Mia is totally left out of the jostling for a seat. Papa, though, has already settled down; he looks like he's waiting for everyone else to come to him.

But Dash doesn't know what to do. It's all too much.

"Okay," his mom says, stepping up. "Shan and Dash - in the middle of the section behind Papa. Ella and Nick, you're right behind them. Dani, honey, we've got that seat right beside Dash for you, and Sophie, I love you, but you're driving us all a little crazy. Sit down; Ellery, get her under control. Allie, Rafe - pick your poison."

And then his mom and dad sit down with Papa in front of Dash and Shannon, settling in for the pre-game antics on the field, ignoring the rest of them. He grins at the back of his mom's head, and he catches his father grumbling something about _but I want to see his face when-_ before his mother cuts him off with a look.

Dash leans over and kisses his mother's cheek. "You are extraordinary."

"Hey, no stealing my words," Dad rebukes, pushing him back into his seat. "Find your own."

"But you took all the good ones," he grumbles back, going so far as to nudge the back of his Dad's head. He gets a raised eyebrow from his mother for that and a thump on his ear from Ellery behind him.

"Boys, boys," Ella grins. Dash reaches back and goes for her, but she ducks at the last second and his hand smacks the plastic seat, stinging.

"Ow. You little-"

"Okay, are we going to have to separate you two?" Allie says, stepping over his hand and into the seat beside Nick. Sophie's got her father beside her and Rafe is staying carefully out of it, as he always has when they get going.

"Can't separate us," Ellery says back. "We're inseparable."

"Oh, that's lame," their father tosses over his shoulder. "La-a-ame."

"Shut up," Ella huffs. "Dash, twist his ear."

Dash holds up both hands. "No way. I know how that feels. You and Mom both with the ears. Not-uh."

"Right _on_, my man," Nick says suddenly, jumping into the middle of it. "She is vicious with those fingers."

"She does it to you too?" Rick says back, turning to Kate. "See what you've taught her? She gets _violent-_"

"I'll show you violent," their mother says calmly, a clear look that shuts him up in a second.

Ellery laughs and pokes Nick in the chest. "See how it works?"

"Be prepared," Dash says darkly, shaking his head at Nick in solidarity. "That's what you're in for."

"Oh yeah? And what about you?" Ellery growls.

Dash snakes his arm around Shannon, who's watching and laughing, draws her into his side with a fat kiss on her cheek. "She's perfect. No browbeating. No snide remarks. No twisting my ear-"

"Oh, but I'm learning," she says quietly, her face beatific. "Your mother is an excellent teacher."

"Oh no, I'm in for it," he moans.

Everyone laughs and his mother reaches back and slaps his knee for the comment. But Dash keeps his arm around Shannon even as the rest of his family settles in, talking to each other, leaving the two of them in their own little world.

"Hey," he says suddenly, grinning at her slowly.

"Yeah?" she asks, lifting an eyebrow in such perfect imitation of his mother that it's a little scary.

Dash laughs and leans in, a soft kiss to her smirking mouth, fingers curling to skim her jaw, and he feels her sigh against him, warm and nearly purring.

"Hey, you're perfect for me, you know?" he says then, watching her, studying her. He's had help all his life to get this down - to know how to read people and figure out what they really mean - but with Shannon, he's always known. She's an open book to him; she's a story he knows how to read.

"Perfect for you, huh?"

"Yeah." He can tell that she's still teasing a little, still humoring him, but he feels like this is his last day to say all the really important things and have them mean what he needs them to mean - have the words be about the reality of life and not about the reality of _leaving._ "Shan. I'm serious. I figured on being alone. I knew my family - they have to live with me, they know me - but a stranger? She'd never stand for it, for how I live - staying up all night, getting crazy ideas, having weird rules. It seemed too unlikely. But here you are."

She cups the side of his face and her thumb brushes his bottom lip, tasting faintly like popcorn. "Dash." Her mouth twists in a smile that looks like it's more to keep from crying. "You know, your mom told me that the first time I met her."

"What?" he laughs. "My mom said what?"

"I'll never forget. After dinner, we were walking down the boardwalk right by the Aquarium and you were being - oh, you know, _fun-"_

"Yeah, sounds like me," he grins.

"You were everywhere," she laughs, rolling her eyes. "But I knew you were nervous about me meeting your parents, and I was too, and I figured it was easier on us both if you just did your thing. I was along for the ride, you know?"

"Wow, that has been a remarkably successful strategy for us," Dash laughs. "That was only like - huh - we'd been dating for only six weeks."

"What can I say?" she shrugs. "I'm good."

"You are good. So come on, tell me more. The rest of the story. On the boardwalk, right after dinner-"

"Okay, well you came out of nowhere and presented me with that piece of driftwood that was all gnarled and knotted like a heart. Remember?"

"Yeah, you still have it," he says, wriggling in his seat a little. She keeps it on her bedside table by her phone and the stereo dock. They see it every night before bed. He's never realized there was significance to it beyond it just being a stupid gift he found for her.

"I have it because you gave it to me and then ran back to the sand. I think your dad was down by the water too. Anyway, your mom was with me on the boardwalk and we stood at the railing for a little bit, watching you, and then she said, _I didn't know anyone could be perfect for him. But you are._"

He laughs a little because he doesn't have the right response to that, and he can see both of his parents are straining their ears, listening in like the curious detectives they are, and he knows why. He talked to his mother often enough in high school about how messed up he felt, how out of sync with everyone else, how he didn't fit in anywhere because he could never quite turn it off - everything, the world, all of them.

She turns it off. Shannon makes the world go quiet.

"Yeah, mom knew right away," he says finally, reaching forward to nudge his mother's shoulder. She turns and gives him a wink, but her hand curls around Shannon's ankle, her smile for his girlfriend.

"I knew," his mom smiles. "But you guys didn't, and that's okay. You know now."

Shannon has this shy blossom of a smile and he loves it, loves that one that peeks out from behind her pink lips and her long lashes. He curls his arm at her neck and kisses that smile, wanting to claim it.

"Hey, I knew too," his dad says then. "Don't leave me out of it."

"Sure, sure," his mother says, patting his cheek. "You had no idea, baby. When we got home that night, you asked me why Dash was so hyper."

His father squints one eye in a glare aimed at her, but she's smiling beautifully, shaking her head. Since they're back in their own little world again, Dash turns to Shannon and nudges her with his chin, his mouth at her ear.

"When did you know?"

"That you were perfect for me too?" she says back, that shy smile on her face. "That you were everything I needed? Right then. When your mom - in that moment - became mine too."


	6. Chapter 6

**Everything That Glitters Part 2**

* * *

Dash has just started in on filling out the score card for the team when he hears Rafe behind him. "I'm your Dad; he's your grandfather. Come on. Let's get it right."

"Sorry, old habits, Daddy," Sophie laughs.

"You're making it hard on Mia," Rafe sighs. "Dash, kiddo, can you pass her up to your mother?"

Dash hands the pencil and scoring sheet over to Shannon so he can reach back for little Mia, grabbing her from Rafe. She gives him that chewing-on-her-hand smile so Dash brings her in close and gobbles at her neck, making her squeal and clutch his ears.

He pulls back and tries to free his ears. "Oh no, not you too."

"Give me my Mia," his mother says from in front of him, her fingers tugging the girl away. "Mia, let go of Dash. Come here, sweetie."

Dash hands her over and Shannon gives him the pencil and score sheet; she's dotted the _i_'s with silly hearts on all the players' names and he snorts. Dani leans in against him and looks at the score card.

"Hey, I want one of those."

"You like baseball?" Dash asks, surprised. Dani's always been the one to read during the games when the whole family has gone.

"I want to learn to score it. Like the numbers and everything."

"I can teach you," he promises. "Well, during the game anyway. After tomorrow, not really sure where I'll be. But I think Dad's got the score cards if you want to start today."

"Yeah," Dani grins slowly and leans forward. "Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah?" But it's both Rafe and Rick who answer Dani. Rafe sighs and tugs on Dani's dark hair.

"What'd I say about confusing Mia?"

"We should change that before the next set of grandkids comes around," Dash says over his shoulder. "Right Ellery?"

Ella grunts. "Whose kids? My kids? Who said I'm having kids?"

"We're not having kids?" Nick calls back. "When'd you decide that?"

"Stay strong, Ella," Kate says even as she has to give Mia up to Rick. "But be aware - birth control isn't a hundred percent effective."

"Ew, Mom."

"You are both a living testament to that," Castle snorts. Then he laughs harder with a look towards Allie. "Actually, that's all _three_ of my kids."

"Must be you, Castle," Kate says, nudging his shoulder. "You stud."

"Ew, Mom," Dash says this time.

"Wait. Both of us? I thought Dash was the mistake," Ellery says, leaning forward as she talks over Shannon's head.

"Thanks, little sister."

Their mother grins and pats Dash's knee. "Technically, you're both - ah, surprises. But never a mistake." Kate murmurs. "Allie either."

"Oh, I was a mistake," Allie laughs. "That was not done on purpose."

"Hey, now," their father says back, tugging Mia's hands away from his beer. "None of that. But, well, Ellery, Mom's right. We weren't officially trying for you, baby girl. Just kinda happened. We meant to be trying. Soon. But not that soon. Mom said wait until Dash was two."

Dash turns and wriggles his eyebrows at Ellery but she's making that _gross, Dad_ face and misses it. "Hey. Ella. Think we can start a new name for Dad? That way his grandkids aren't confused."

"We've never been confused," Sophie says hotly. "I know exactly who everyone is."

"You think you do, and yet you're still calling your grandfather _dad_," Rafe says back.

"Oh, poor Rafa," Ellery laughs. "Yeah, okay. What do we call Dad instead?"

"Pops," Dash says with relish. "We call him Pops."

"You bringing that up again?" their father whines. "No. I told you. That's so old."

Their mother raises an eyebrow, just looking at him, and he huffs and mutters things under his breath about _meanie_ and _no respect_. Dash gives Ella a look and she nods back in agreement, and it's on. It is so on.

By the end of the third inning, Dash has half of them calling his father 'Pops' and then shooting Rick a half-apologetic look as it comes out of their mouth. Pops is something he's been trying to start for years now, but which apparently needed Ellery's official backing to it for the thing to take.

"Hey, Pops," Dash says, leaning forward with a laugh.

"You're liking this a little too much," his father says back, eyes narrowing.

"I really am. I figure I have to leave my legacy, you know? Before I go."

"You never know, Dashiell. Might not be going anywhere."

Dash refuses to get drawn into this conversation again; he doesn't want to think about how he might get placed in his home city because when it doesn't happen, he's not sure he can survive the disappointment.

New Mexico has been on his mind lately. He wonders if he's being providentially prepared for the move - it's come up so often now. A license plate as he was jaywalking (sorry Mom), a woman in the ED who kept insisting that the Grand Canyon was in New Mexico rather than Arizona, a conversation with a nurse about Las Cruces where she was from originally.

He can make it. He won't love it, but he'll do the job and then apply for places near home the moment he's done. He'll leave everything in New York and just live and breathe the hospital for the next-

"Dash, my man."

He glances up and sees his father waiting on him, a knowing, an understanding there in his eyes that he's going to miss.

He's really going to be miserable without-

"Not gone yet," his father says to him quietly. "Stay with us while you're able."

Dash nods quickly, reaching out and squeezing his father's shoulder. "Right. You're right. Thanks, Dad."

* * *

Dash heads back up the stairs with Dad to buy another round of beers, mostly as a way to get his father alone. They push through the crowd during a lull in the fifth inning - no one has scored and the 'three up - three down' monotony has made Dad restless. Always does.

Not Dash. Baseball is the one thing that he never gets bored with. Never.

Mom says it's a thinking man's game, and maybe it is. But it's always fascinated him - every detail. Still, he doesn't mind heading out with his father to wander the concourse for a little while, just the two of them.

"Hey, Dad?"

"No _Pops_?" his father says, narrowing his eyes.

Dash laughs, shaking his head and shrugging back. "What? You know I'm right. For Rafe's sake at least. And we already have a Papa." Who was suspiciously quiet about it; Papa was watching the game, of course, and sneaking in some cuddling time with Mia, he remembers.

His dad's smile is sly when it comes, a little too quick, and Dash knows that he's secretly pleased with _Pops_. His father's hair is salt and pepper, the lines from laughter are deep, but he looks much like he always has; he looks like Dash's dad.

"So. You got something to talk about, kiddo?"

Dash grunts and glances over at his old man, shakes his head. "Yeah. I do."

"Gotta stop worrying over New Mexico or Seattle or wherever you might end up, son."

"I'm kinda wired that way."

His father reaches out and grips the back of his neck, squeezing a little like he's five years old again. "Don't use it as an excuse. Your mom would kick your ass for that."

Dashiell shrugs him off and follows his father towards the hall of history, the former players and fun anecdotes. "I'm not taking the Xanax," he says.

"I didn't say you should."

"Mom think I should?"

"Mom thinks you know best how to handle your issues."

"But Mom knows too."

His father only shrugs.

Dash scrapes a hand down his jaw and stands in front of the display about the former Yankees mascot. Doomed mascot. His father gives a little sigh and laughs.

"I remember taking you guys to a game and having to bring Ellery out here to distract her. We met those condiments that used to run around the field. Race around, you remember?"

"Yeah." Dash glances over at his dad and wonders where this is going.

"You know, Mom and I always tried to make sure that even though we didn't parent you guys the same, that we were giving you both a fair shot. You know that Dash, right? Because I'd take Ellery out of the seats and walk her around while you stayed down there with Mom. Sometimes that might have felt like I understood Ellery more than you, while your mom got you more than Ella. But-"

"No, no," Dash says hurriedly. "I get it. I know. I'm good. You don't have to reassure me about any of that."

His dad nods, looking serious, looking a little relieved as well. "I wondered. Ella didn't seem to know. Just wanted to make sure you know you can talk to me about stuff. Even if I'm the one who was always taking Ellery. I know your issues too, you know?"

Dash nods, and then the words come right out. "You'll take care of Shannon while I'm gone. Right, Dad? You'll make her come over and not work too much and like - take her to dinner and stuff."

He gets that squeeze on the back of his neck again, and his father pulls him hard into a hug, one of those good, strong kinds that always does something to Dash. Makes him _right_ again. He knows the technical term is 'orienting' and that it makes his nervous system line up correctly, but to Dash it's always just been right.

His dad knows him too.

"Son, whatever happens, I don't think you need to worry about Shannon."

"But when I'm not here, I want her to - she's got you guys still. Right? Because that's important to her, you guys are her family too-"

"Dash. My man. Trust me. Shannon is stronger than you give her credit for and she's gonna make it, she'll be okay. More than that - she'll be fantastic."

"I know she's strong," he says quietly. "But you don't know everything about her family."

His father pauses, that long and assessing look on his face, but he doesn't ask for more.

And now that Dash thinks about it, it could be that his dad _does_ know. They're close, and he knows there are things Shannon says she shouldn't ever have to tell him. But she might have told his father.

"Then you know," his father says then. "She reminds me of your mom. Especially when I first met her. A little wounded, but fierce in it. Quiet. But not with you."

Dash takes in a breath and his father lets him go, lets him step away and regain his balance again. "I know," he says finally. "Me too, reminds me of mom too." He worries his fingers against the plaque in front of the display, feels it tightening his jaw.

"Dash. I shouldn't have to say it, but I know you need it. We'll take care of her. No matter what."

Dash lets out his breath and closes his eyes, grateful. First thing on his list, number one thing, and it all seems easy after that.

Shannon's taken care of. What else matters?

Bring on New Mexico.


	7. Chapter 7

**Everything That Glitters Part 2**

* * *

When Dash and his father get back with everyone's drinks - along with a slushy for Sophie that she clinks against Dani's coke - the whole family has been rearranged in their seats. Dani's down with Allie and Kate on the first row, Papa has Mia beside Ellery and Rafe at the back, and Nick has moved down to talk with Sophie. There are three empty seats.

Dash pauses. "Where's Shan?"

"She - uh - she went to the bathroom," Rafe says, taking the beer from the holder in Dash's hands.

"Oh. Okay," he says, glancing back towards the concourse. He sits down next to Nick and hands over the last beer.

"Thanks, man," Nick says good-naturedly. "Your mom made me fill in your score card. There was this crazy double play you guys missed."

Dash grins and takes a sip of his beer, wincing at the initial scrub of taste on his tongue. "Saw it on the closed caption tvs out there. Nuts. I thought they'd score it a caught stealing but - whatever."

Dash takes the score card from Nick and sips again at his beer, puts the cup in its holder - these are his parents' good seats and Shannon arranged to get the others seats around them; she said he needed to relax. It's working; he's always felt at home here.

"Aw, man, you did good," Dash says, inspecting his score card. "You must follow the game - whose your team?"

"San Francisco Giants," Nick says without hesitation.

"You from there?" He can't remember what Ellery has said about Nick, but he thought last night that the guy said he'd grown up in New York.

"Ah, well, sorta?" Nick laughs and eases deeper into his seat. He takes a long swallow of beer and Dash can't help cataloguing everything - the unsettled way he flicks his finger against the cup, the pinched mouth when he drinks, the lean away from Dash. He's not proud of his home life, not happy with his 'origin story' as Dad would call it.

"Sounds like there's a story there," Dash prods, can't help himself. "Last night - made me think you grew up here, so how'd you become a Giants fan?"

"My mom," Nick finally says, a sideways look that Dash doesn't know how to interpret. "She grew up in the Bay Area. I lived there ith her until I was twelve, when she died."

Ah. That explains some things. "That sucks. And you were shipped across the country to New York, lived with who? relatives?"

"My father," he says steadily. Too steady, too practiced. Dash has been studying body language and listening to Allie for far too long - he sees everything, always has, but now he knows what it means.

"Your father still live around here?" Dash asks. Nick's story unfolds before him like one of his father's novels - not that it's predictable, but that it's refreshingly real. It's true and honest, and it's not easy, but look at what Nick's done in spite of everything. He and Shannon would like each other a lot, if either of them manage to share their stories with each other.

"Yeah," Nick says quietly. "He lives in Brooklyn."

Dash nods. So Nick's mom got them both out from under his dad, only to leave Nick alone at twelve with no one else to turn to but that father they were escaping. So Nick was forced to come back.

"I love this city," Nick adds. "But I left for California again the second I could."

"How old were you?" Dash asks, sipping his beer and watching the game on the field, but paying more attention to Nick than the players.

"Sixteen."

"Takes a lot of guts to leave," Dash replies, glancing over at Nick.

The man seems to know what Dash is saying because he cracks a crooked smile. "Not when staying is so much worse than going. You want to stay because you have a pretty awesome family - I wouldn't want to leave them either."

Dash laughs a little, rubbing his jaw. "Yeah, good point."

"We are pretty awesome," Ellery says, leaning over and wrapping her arms around Nick's neck, kissing his cheek. "Makes you pretty awesome too, now, right?"

"Not yet," Dash says quickly, a little grin as he messes with them. "Just engaged to be awesome."

"Hey," their father says suddenly, turning around. "_Ellery_."

"No!" she laughs, shaking her head. "I didn't."

"She didn't what?" Dash asks. But Dani is crawling back over the seats to sit beside him again and Papa is passing Mia over their heads to give her back to Rafe, and Sophie is calling for _Pops_, which makes Dash laugh at the look on his father's face.

And then Shannon comes back and scoots down the aisle towards him, beaming, her cheeks already freckled in the late spring sunlight.

"Hey," he calls to her. "Long bathroom break. You fall in?"

She wrinkles her nose at him. "There was a line. Where's my drink?"

* * *

He's not paying attention when it happens.

Well, he was paying attention, because it was a quick first half and the seventh inning stretch and then their whole family stands up to sing 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game' and so he's joking with Dani after the song when it happens.

The whole stadium erupts with cheers and _aww_ and he glances around, confused for a second, and then down to the field where they sometimes have entertainment - the condiments used to race when he was little - but there's nothing on the field.

The whole crowd is looking at the jumbotron and people around him are talking and laughing and then someone he doesn't even _know_ nudges his shoulder from two rows back, and he looks.

It takes him entirely too long to read the brilliant, HD letters blazing before him because what he really sees is her face.

Shannon's face. And then his. And the heart drawn around them.

He thinks, stupidly, _they've brought back the kissing cam?_

He turns to Shannon at his side, mute and dumbstruck by the jumbotron, and she's grinning up at him and holding something out in her fingers, her hair curling at her neck so that the cautious, hopeful smile on her face makes his heart twist.

"What?" he says dumbly, glancing back to the screen in the outfield and then he really reads it.

_Dashiell, Will you marry me?_

"Shannon," he chokes out, jerking his head back to her. "Shannon."

She comes in close, her hand up between them so that he sees it now, the ring, a wedding band, flat and male and so huge in her small fingers. Her hips brush his. He reaches for her waist and grips her, can only see her, only Shannon.

"But I'm leaving," he rasps finally, staring down at her.

"Where you go, I go," she murmurs, her face close to his, her arm pressed between them with that ring. She brushes a kiss across his lips. "Your people are my people."

His people. He's surrounded by all his people, and Shannon is - she's - Shannon is pushing the ring into his chest and smiling up at him.

"So. You gonna marry me, Dashiell Alexander Castle?"

"Hell, yes," he blurts out, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her up into him. "Yes. All the ways, yes."

The whole crowd is cheering.


	8. Chapter 8

**Everything That Glitters Part 2**

* * *

"I think I was supposed to get _you_ a ring," Dash says. His family laughs, hard claps to his back as they jostle around him and Shannon.

She pushes the ring down his finger - it's a little loose - but he realizes what it is, turns swiftly to his father.

"This is yours."

"Yours now," his dad says with a grin.

He stares at his father, glances to his mother and then Shannon to be sure. "But. This is your wedding ring." He can tell because it's that matte silver he's twisted around and around on his father's own finger as a child - while Dash was bored during a sermon at church or had to hold hands at the park or a dog pile on the couch.

Shannon is pressed up close to him. "It was your dad's idea," she whispers at his shoulder.

"Dad." He lifts his head back to his father.

"If your mom gets to have a new one, I do too." His dad grins and leans in, wraps both arms around him so that Shannon has to give him up for a second. His father's voice is amused in his ear. "You're the reason I ever had it in the first place. Belongs with you."

When his father releases him, Dash shoots a startled look to his mother, but she heard it too. She's rolling her eyes at Dad, but she threads an arm through his and tugs him back to her side, guiding him to sit down.

"That's roundabout true," she says quietly, winks at Dash. "But not the whole truth. Dash, baby, you just pushed up our timetable."

She's got Dad back in his own seat now but she leans in and wraps an arm around each of them, Dash and Shannon both, kissing first Shannon's cheek and then his.

"Congratulations, my best man. You deserve to be happy."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Everybody sit down," Sophie says then. "Come on. Show's over. Game's on."

Dash laughs and his mother lets them go; their family starts finding their seats once more. Dash wraps his hand around Shannon's, the ring on his finger knocking into her knuckles, and she grins at him, brilliant and bright.

"I do good?" she murmurs to him. She's got her bottom lip between her teeth, but she knows. Oh yeah, she totally knows.

"Good?" he says airily. "Nope, not even close."

Her eyes narrow to slits and he grins.

"More than good. This is... without a doubt... the greatest moment of my life."

Shannon lets out a long breath, a laughing sigh, and wraps her arms around him.

"Wow," he breathes out, still grinning at her, can't help it. She just proposed to _him_ on the jumbotron at a Yankees game. "Oh, I get it. Is that why the extra long bathroom break?"

She giggles into his neck and kisses him again. "Yeah."

"You're amazing," he whispers at her ear, his face hidden in the waves of her hair. She smells like baseball and honeysuckle. She smells like home.

No matter what happens tomorrow, he has her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Everything That Glitters Part 2**

* * *

Kate can't help the flutter of her stomach as her family walks back to the subway station together. Her father is giving Dashiell some kind of man-to-man talk, his hand on his grandson's shoulder, Dash with that wide Castle smile.

Wow. She didn't see this coming. Both of her children are engaged. Settled. _Happy._

Castle slips his arm around her waist and tugs, which she hates - that pull into him so that their legs tangle for a moment. But he's always done it, and she's quick enough, and their rhythm doesn't even falter. And maybe a small part of her _likes_ that he wants her there, at his side.

His soft kiss at her ear helps, and she turns to smile at him, stroking her fingers down his arm to hold his hand instead. "Hey there," she murmurs. "You knew about this."

"I did," he says happily. "I helped Shannon get everything worked out. I - well, I offered her the ring without asking you, but I figured you'd get it. What it means."

Kate can't help the slash of her mouth into an even brighter smile, the fullness in her chest brimming up to her lips. "You're a good man," she sighs, stroking her thumb around the knob at his wrist bone.

"I really am," he brags, wriggling an eyebrow at her, his face crinkled up in amusement.

"You really are," she agrees, nudging her shoulder into his as their family swirls around them. "Looks like I get to shop for a wedding band for you, huh?"

"Since I'm such a good man," he smirks. Kate just laughs quietly and shakes her head at him.

The sidewalks are crowded with people leaving the stadium and quite a few seem to recognize Dash and Shan, offer them congrats or comments, some individuals kind, some a little lewd. Shannon's not one for the attention, but she takes it gracefully, and Kate's proud of her for that, for giving Dashiell that grand gesture that the Castle men seem to need from time to time.

"Tomorrow," Castle says with a little sigh.

Kate has lost sight of Dani and she gives a quick scan behind her, but she's with Rafe; they're keeping up.

"Tomorrow," Castle says again, nudging her.

She turns back to her husband, her man-child of a husband, his eagerness and his puppy adoration and his melodrama, but she knows. And Castle being so dramatic about Dash's Match Day keeps her on an even keel. Partners in that as well.

"Tomorrow we find out," she says, nodding her head at him. Castle sighs again and clutches her hand a little more tightly.

"I don't want to lose Dash when we've just gotten Ella-"

"We don't ever lose them," she says quickly. "They aren't lost."

Castle goes silent and she knows she's tipped her hand, but after twenty plus years together, that happens pretty regularly. Whatever.

"Feels like losing them," he grumbles, blowing right past her admission in that way he has of covering for her. "I hate having them far away. When Alexis was in Chicago-"

"But that's the perfect example," she butts in. "Allie left us for a little while, but she came back. And Ella..." Kate sighs and fixes her eyes on her daughter, her baby girl all grown-up in some ways and still such a child in others.

"Ella's coming back too," Castle murmurs. He brings their joined hands up to her waist and hooks at her belt loop. She lets him drag her a little closer, a bump of their hips, and she takes the comfort he offers.

"She told me last night she's only got two more weeks of shooting when she goes back. She was supposed to have a month off after that, and then work again. But-"

"But she and Nick are coming to New York instead," Castle finishes with relish. "We can get them started, right?"

Kate slips her fingers out of his and takes his elbow, comes in closer with a frown. "That didn't work out so hot before," she hesitates.

"But we can... help them out at least," he adds hopefully.

"You think Ella's going to take our money?" she laughs. "No way. You think _Nick_ will take his girlfriend's parents' money?"

"A wedding gift. Engagement gift," he amends. "Surely."

"Maybe," she says. "I'll talk to her. Carefully."

Castle laughs at that and she shrugs against his look, pushing him towards the subway steps and down after their kids. Allie slips up at her side and hooks her arm through Kate's, her cheek touching her adopted mother's shoulder.

"So Dash is engaged. Wow."

"Yup. Look at that."

"I remember baby-sitting him," Allie laughs. "And he'd jump off the back of the couch into the cushions, giggling the whole way."

"How old was he?" Kate murmurs. "Two or so?"

"Yeah. Before you had Ellery, when I was at college here still."

"Mm," Kate murmurs, lifting an eyebrow at Allie, remembering as well.

"Yeah, yeah. That was around the same time as my infamous wild child phase."

"Ooh, really? You?" It's Dashiell, turning around in line at the turnstile and flashing Allie a grin, a wriggle of his eyebrows that makes him look so much like his father that Kate has to laugh.

"Me, you little brat," Allie mutters, kicking a foot out at him to push him forward in line. "Probably your fault too."

Kate keeps her mouth shut, ears open, watching the two of them. She's forgotten what that was like, her early attempts at motherhood, sleepless and never stopping and all her priorities mixed up. Thinking she would never change, never surrender her life, and finding she was making everyone miserable for it. It was - actually - Allie who gave her a wake up call. Allie who needed a mother.

Dash snorts. "My fault? Whatever. You know you love me."

The line moves up and Dash has to turn around quickly and push through, Shannon reaching back and grabbing his subway pass and sticking it in her own pocket, keeping up with him.

Kate used to do that with Castle's wallet. These Castle men.

"Yeah, I love you. Even when you wouldn't share," she hears Allie teas back.

Kate follows Castle down the stairway to the subway platform, watching the wide brush of his shoulders clearing a path for them. He's leaning in to make a comment to Ellery, making their daughter laugh, and Kate waits for Allie and Dash to catch up with them.

Dash's fault? No. But the blame could be placed on Kate for resisting family life so hard. On Castle for not paying attention to his daughter because he was hiding how poorly they were managing. It wasn't Dash's fault, but his arrival put a lot of things in motion that have led them to this. To a baseball game on a Saturday afternoon with all her kids, and a life so blessed she can't imagine how she didn't totally screw it up.

Dashiell worms his way between her and Allie. "I wouldn't share? Of course not. Why should I share my toys with a sister eighteen years older than me?"

"Hush," Allie chides. "Don't go throwing around my age."

"It wasn't your toys," Kate interrupts with a tight smile. "It was me."

Dash grunts in surprise. "What?"

"You didn't want to share me."


	10. Chapter 10

**Everything That Glitters 2**

* * *

Castle sits on the subway car with Mia snuggled in his arms, her mouth open in sleep, drooling on his shoulder, her body sweaty and sticking to him. Nothing he likes better.

His granddaughter's damp curls spring up under the comb of his fingers and he kisses her forehead, glances up to see Kate smiling tenderly at him from where she stands. He gives her a crooked lift of his lips - he knows he's a sap, but so is she - and she takes her hand off the bar and strokes her fingers through his hair.

Castle kisses her wrist and the car sways around a corner, jostling them both. Her stance widens to absorb the movement, her legs hitting his knees, and Castle reaches out to steady her as the train jerks again.

"Thanks," she says, even as she catches Ellery, holding her up as well. "Lost your sea legs, baby girl?"

"Something like that," Ella laughs, shrugging it off. Nick, who has a hand on the pole, drags her back upright, but he looks sneaky and pleased with himself and Castle wonders if Nick was responsible for that tumble. Somehow. "Thanks. Sorry, Mama."

"You're fine," Kate hums back, her pleasure so evident that Castle brushes his fingers across the outside of her thigh as she stands over him. Kate glances down and he grins back at her; she blushes a little, that spot at her neck that flares to her jaw.

She's happy. He knows she's been happy, knows their life has been good and rich, but it still rises up in his chest sometimes to see her. See how beautiful she is with love.

Beside him, Alexis stands and slides her arm around Kate's waist. "Here, Mama. You sit with Dad. I'll stand for the rest of the ride."

Kate doesn't try to reject Alexis's offer, just sinks down next to him, her side pressed against his, and she cups Mia's head and kisses her softly. Kate's chin digs into his shoulder and then she kisses him too.

A decade ago, Kate would've shrugged off Alexis. Stayed standing to prove she could. Castle has no trouble exploiting his age, enjoys all the benefits and perks, but he's had ten years on her to get used to the idea.

Castle lifts his hand from Mia and strokes softly at the side of Kate's face, kisses her forehead even as he senses Alexis turning away, or maybe that's Dash saying something to Ella, the kids ducking their heads.

Long way from _ew, gross, kissy-face._

He grins and Kate gives him a look but he shakes his head. "Nothing. Happy."

She lays her hand flat against his thigh and smiles back, that caught-up one, lips spreading across her teeth, eyes invested in him, a mirroring happiness that he remembers seeing when their children were born.

"Me too," she says then. "Look what we made."

* * *

No one seems to want to break up the group, not even her father, so she nods to Castle and he invites everyone back to the loft. Kate's the one who unlocks the door and lets them inside, half her family still waiting for the elevator downstairs. Kate flips on the light as they pour in after her, laughing and talking, messy and complicated and hers.

Ella is the one who comes to her, wraps a tight hug around her shoulders, a kiss on her cheek. "Me and Dash, huh?"

"Always a competition with you," Kate smiles back, running a hand down her daughter's hair at her back. "Congratulations. Really. And not just because Nick's moving you back home."

"Thanks, Mom. It's... good. For once I'm right where I'm supposed to be. Like I've stopped running."

Oh, Ella. Baby girl. Kate bites her lip and starts to say something but the door swings open, and now it's Castle and Dash and Shannon coming inside, Mia still snuggled down against her grandfather's chest, mouth open and drooling.

Ellery throws out her arms and hugs on Shannon, drawing her into the living room where the rest of the family already waits. The moment is gone. Ella's natural grace, her ease with Shannon reminds Kate of Castle's mother, and her chest tightens, her eyes moving to Rick.

He stays standing, his arms around Mia, a short shake of his head when Allie offers to take her back. Kate moves to his side, nudges him towards one of the comfortable chairs by the window. It's a little out of the circle of their family but it's still close enough for him to make his goofy, ridiculous comments, he and Dash feeding off each other. She sits on the arm of the chair and draws a hand down Mia's back, straightening the baby's shirt, causing Castle to glance up at her.

"Thinking about your mother," she murmurs, a little shrug.

He nods, eyes roving over the group again. Dashiell and Shannon sitting front and center on the couch, Rafe already heading for the kitchen with Sophie in tow, promising dessert and wine in celebration, Kate's father in conversation with Dani who sits at his feet, Allie and Nick on either side of the newly engaged - the most newly engaged - couple. Ellery is still standing, her movements refined, efficient, but Castle must see it too, how their daughter threads them together so effortlessly.

"Ella," he sighs quietly.

"Mm-hmm," she murmurs. "She's a lot more quiet about it, of course, but it's the same skill."

Castle wraps his fingers around the back of her calf where she's planted her heel into the cushion. She turns slightly to look at him but he's not morose, just a little sad.

"She'd have loved this," Kate offers. "She'd be presiding over the whole family. Giving Dash a run for his money."

Castle gives her a flickering smile over Mia's head and Kate can't help slipping down into the seat with him. He grunts and shifts to make room, chuckling at her, and she leans in against his side, bringing a hand up to cover his over Mia.

"I think Sophie reminds me of her the most," he says quietly. He misses her; she knows.

"Oh, yes. Sophie's such a Martha." Kate tries to hold back the smirk, buries her face against her husband's shirt. He shrugs to knock her off and Kate combs her fingers through Mia's auburn curls instead. "Sophie is the diva."

"She's so opposite Alexis that sometimes I wonder," Castle laughs.

"Genes will out," Kate grins, tilting her head back to look at him. "I figure between you and Meredith she had to get _some_-"

"Shut up," he huffs at her, eyes narrowing.

"See. That drama right there, Castle."

"Whatever."

Kate hums and scrapes her fingers along the scruff at his jawline, leans in to kiss him softly. "Dash has it too. Both my boys are drama llamas."

"And you like it," he says back, eyeing her for bringing up that old joke. "You _love_ it."

She smiles, doesn't bother to hide it, and lets the last few days settle into her bones, lets herself finally believe it. Ella is coming home - and engaged to a quiet, good man who knows his own mind and won't let her run roughshod over him. And Dashiell, her best man, at least knows that wherever he's matched tomorrow, he'll still have his family right there; Shannon goes with him.

"Tomorrow," Castle says softly, the two of them in sync.

"Tomorrow. We'll see what happens."

"We know what happens," Castle says with a shake of his head. "Just don't know how it unfolds."

Mia shifts and whines pitifully in Castle's arms, so he gets up and carries her into their bedroom to lay her down. Kate watches him move, his shoulders wide but his body so lean now - age and athleticism both - and then she turns her face back to the rest of their family.

Tomorrow.

Even if she _does_ know the ending, she still finds herself anxious about the middle.

* * *

Castle grunts and shifts away from the _broiler_ in bed with him. But it's impossible - arms, legs, sweaty skin sticking to his t-shirt. Kate would never. What in the world-?

He cracks open an eye and winces at the grey light in their bedroom, not even dawn. And then he realizes that little Mia has snuggled up tight against him, mouth open and drooling, sleep-sweat plastering her to his back.

No one went home last night. Even Jim Beckett stayed, and he rarely does any more, the long drive and Kelly at home. Oh, wait, Castle remembers now. Kelly's visiting her grandkids this week, their Spring Break. That explains why Papa stayed upstairs in the guest room.

Oh, sweet Mia. His fault; he put her to sleep here last night.

Castle moves slowly to keep from waking her, manages to slide an arm under her hot little body and pick her up. She snuggles into his chest with a whimpering that sounds like dreams, and he moves to put her down.

But he has no idea where.

Usually they set up the portable in one of the guest rooms, but Allie and Rafe pulled out the couch in the living room last night. He heads down the hallway with Mia conked out over his shoulder and spots Dani and Sophie in the study, sleeping head to toe on the wide black leather couch.

He really loves this. He loves walking through his home and tripping over family, loves how full it is, how it's just so much more now. When they got pregnant with Dashiell and Castle had to confront the reality of whatever it was they were doing together, he honestly never expected this.

He expected joint custody somewhere down the road and Kate Beckett showing up at odd hours for a post-case booty call late at night or taking her son back home with her for a rare weekend off.

He wrote it that way, actually. One of the furious and impotent jags he had back then, when nothing seemed to go right for them and Kate kept going back to her apartment because she needed space. He saw it so clearly, exactly how it would go, and it was like he needed to prepare himself for it.

But he didn't figure on Kate. He'd counted her out.

She did this, all of this, the house filled up and the last thirty years of their lives. She was the one who stayed, the one who stopped and rearranged her life around their family, for their family; she was the one who insisted something needed to be done for Dashiell's issues, and who asked him for Ella, and who marched him to counseling so they'd be better for each other.

"Why are you standing in the hallway?"

Castle jumps and half turns to see Kate smirking just behind him. She reaches out and takes Mia from his arms, kissing their grand-daughter and cuddling her close.

"Trying to find her a bed," he murmurs back. "And not in mine. Yours is the only hot body I want all over me."

"Gross, Castle. Make her up a pallet and we can put her in the study." Kate nods back down the hallway and he turns around, following her now. "There are clean sheets in our linen closet."

"Yeah. And that old comforter. I'll fold it up and put a fitted sheet over it."

"She might roll."

"She won't have far to go," he shrugs, stepping past her to get to their bedroom. He glances back and sees Kate swaying with Mia in the hallway outside the study, her body in shadows, just the outline of woman and child.

He's been given that beautiful image so many times. With Dashiell when he was a colicky thing and nothing could soothe him, when Ellery was so small and wouldn't wake up to feed and Kate tried to nudge her into awareness, or with Sophie when Allie spent the night because Rafe had to work. When Dani got homesick because she wanted so badly to sleep over with her older sister, Kate stayed up all night comforting her, telling her she could call home and have her mommy come pick her up, but Dani wouldn't because Sophie and Dash and Ellie were all here.

And now Mia, damp curls and slack little body, and Kate's hands spanning her back and cradling her head, keeping her safe, keeping her close.

Castles makes up the bed in silence, puts the pallet in front of the bookcases so she can't roll too far, and then he lays Mia down and smooths her rumpled shirt. He feels Kate's hand come to his back in warning and he makes sure to lift up with his knees, lacing his fingers with hers as the other girls sleep on.

Kate leads him out of the study and back to their bedroom; she pushes aside the covers and nudges him down, and then she slides under the sheets with him, lays her head on his shoulder.

He strokes her arm, up and down, soothing himself back to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Everything That Glitters Part 2**

* * *

She's surprised when she wakes up at five in the morning, not because she woke before Castle's alarm went off, but because she was asleep in the first place. Lately if she's up, she's up, but she must have dozed off. Maybe the contentment of knowing where everyone is - under her own roof.

Kate scrapes a hand down her face and then pushes off against the mattress, sliding slowly out of bed. Castle's own sleep patterns have gotten sporadic these days; he'll often wake at the slightest touch, be jostled into awareness by the shower cutting on.

She tries to go slowly, leaves him still asleep in the bedroom as she pads quietly down the hall. The living room couch is pulled out and Allie and Rafe are sacked out, but Dashiell is downstairs, puttering around the kitchen, being about as quiet as Dash ever is.

She figured he'd be here.

He gives her a lift of his chin when he sees her and she crosses her arms against the cool air as she makes her way towards him. Dash leans in and kisses her cheek; she lays her hand against his chest and receives it, drumming her fingers against his shirt. He's already dressed too.

"When'd you wake?" she murmurs.

"The clock was a four," he chuckles softly.

She grins back at his joke and shakes her head at him. "We should go out for coffee. Don't want to wake them."

He nods but at that moment the stairs creak and they both swivel to look. Ellery is sneaking downstairs, caught on the middle step as she's trying to be quiet. She rolls her eyes at them and continues on, comes to them in the kitchen.

"What?" she hisses, slapping Dashiell's arm. "Don't look so shocked."

Kate presses her lips together to hold back the smirk. "It's five a.m. Maybe you didn't realize?"

"Whatever. I'll have you know that my day on set starts at four. In the morning. Four. So I've been getting up earlier than you all for years."

Dash cocks his head and Ella sighs.

"Okay, fine. Not earlier than you. But mom for sure. Ever since you retired, Mama, you've been a sluggard."

Kate startles out a laugh and then freezes, turning to look over her shoulder at the sleeping Allie and Rafe. "Hey, let's go out for coffee, okay? We can bring back breakfast for everyone while we're out. Ella, you up for it?"

Ellery's face splits into a wide smile, eyes as blue as the Pacific. And crinkling at the corners, just a little. Just enough. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd love that. Dash, you don't mind me tagging along?"

"Tagging along?" he snorts. "It's not an exclusive club. This is just the first time you have _ever_ managed to make it."

Ellery pushes on him a little with those narrowed eyes, but this is also the first time that it looks completely relaxed, at ease. Just messing with her brother and not really antagonistic. Kate's been regretting all the words she never said, all the ways she never managed to convince her daughter to come home and stay. But now she's starting to think Ellery needed to be away for a while, needed the chance to grow up without them.

"Okay, guys," she says, glancing down at her pajama pants. "I'll get dressed and then we'll go."

"Sounds good," Dash says immediately.

"We'll wait out here. Quietly," Ellery stage whispers.

Kate can't help the smile as she heads back down the hall. Because this morning, she's going to get coffee with both her kids.

* * *

Ellery sits on the same side of the booth with Kate, bumping shoulders with her, turning her head to listen when Kate speaks, touching her elbow lightly for her attention. Kate's never had her daughter so blatantly hang on her before, at least not since Ella was a tiny little thing, silent and so clever.

Dashiell, as usual, is the one who carries their conversation, moving back and forth from idle commentary to weird trivia, just like his father.

"If there's a brain injury in that region, Wernicke's area, you can end up with Wernicke aphasia. You understand what everyone is saying to you, but when you speak, it's word salad." He stuffs another bite of waffles into his mouth, looking both erudite and goofy at the same time. Such his father.

"What's that?" Ellery says, sneaking her hand over to snag one of Dashiell's strawberries. He slaps her hand, but he's too late, and Ella snickers at him, leaning back against Kate as if for defense, chewing on her prize. "Word salad."

"Word salad is where speech is typically fluent, but senseless and empty of content. I'm sure you've seen it before - it's one of those stereotypical stroke victim characterizations that are in movies. You know - where the old woman wakes up and sees her son and he's asking her how she is, and she says something like, I need a lamp."

Kate snorts and shakes her head. "Sorry, kiddo, but I can't say that I've ever seen that movie. I need a lamp?"

Ellery giggles but Dash points his syrupy fork at his mother. "What do you know? You never watch anything. Dad's always talking about some movie you've never seen."

Kate tilts her head in acknowledgment, feels Ellery sit up straighter next to her. "How about my movies? You've seen those, right?"

"Of course," she says immediately, turning intent eyes to her daughter. But Ella doesn't seem to be worried; in fact, she's moving right along like her question was rhetorical.

"Okay, so the one Nick was talking about Friday night - the Fast and Furious franchise - you know, the one we met on set-"

"No," Dashiell laughs. "No way. You met Nick on set of that stupid Fast and Furious 38 movie?"

"It's not thirty-eight," Ella says scathingly. "Come on. It's a reboot-"

"What about the movie?" Kate interrupts, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well, it's like Dash was saying. The guy gets in a car wreck; he's on the run because he's found out who's behind the..." Ella glances back and forth between them and then waves it off. "Never mind. Plot holes abound. But he wakes up with that aphasia stuff. Word salad. Everybody on set was quoting the line because it was so stupid."

"See?" Dash says triumphantly, stabbing his fork into his waffles again. "I told you."

"I didn't say I didn't believe you," Kate huffs back. "I said I've never seen that in a movie about stroke victims."

"Mom," he whines. "Come on."

She smirks and glances out of the corner of her eye to see Ellery smiling into her coffee and sliding her fingers across the table again to steal another strawberry.

"Okay, so Wernicke's area. What about it, Dash?" Kate asks, playing distraction for her daughter's move.

"Anyway," he enunciates clearly, narrowing his eyes at Ella. "You damage Wernicke's area and you sound coherent, but it's totally a mess. But then there's Broca's area-"

"Jeez, all these names," Ellery groans.

"Shut it, baby girl," Dash snaps back, slapping her hand again. Ellery retreats with a little smile and Kate laughs softly at them, lets Ellery curl up against her side. "So back to what I was saying. If you have a brain injury to Broca's area, your aphasia is different - you can comprehend everything people say to you, but you can't get at the words to speak back. You're mostly mute."

"Aphasia," Kate hums, studying Dashiell. "I guess it's not as simple as you're making it sound."

He gives her a cocky grin, crooked, and shrugs. "Yeah. Simplifying it a lot. There's really a hundred different kinds of aphasia you can have with injuries to those areas, but the thing that stuck with me would be how awful that would be. To understand what people are saying but not having any way of communicating back. To be forced into silence."

"For you? Hell, yeah. Dash, you talk more than anybody I know," Ellery snorts.

"I have a large quota of words," he smirks. "Me and Dad."

"Ooh, if _Dad_ had aphasia, wouldn't that be terrible?" Ellery shivers and grins. "I mean, his whole job is based on being able to have words. If Mom had it, not much change there. We probably would never notice. In fact..." Ella peers at her critically, a little smirk on her lips that Kate rolls her eyes at. "How do we know Mom doesn't already have that Broca's aphasia?"

"Mom still talks. Coherently."

"Maybe it's word salad," Ella pipes up, still smirking at Kate. But she can't quite keep a straight face and she cracks up, laughing again. "I'm gonna use that. I'll make up business cards that say, _Please excuse me. I have aphasia_. And then no one will make me talk in the morning."

"You're certainly talking enough _now._" Dash sighs and scoops up a couple strawberries, dumps them on a napkin and slides it over to Ellery. "Stop stealing mine."

"You like it," Ella says back, already propping one into her mouth.

Kate just smiles, draws her arm over the back of the seat and strokes her fingers through Ellery's pony tail. Ella startles in surprise and half-turns in the booth, her eyes catching her mother's and offering one of those shy, small smiles. Her little girl smiles. The kind she used to give Kate out from underneath that dark hair when she was a stubborn three year old.

"If you need me to talk more, baby girl, I can do that. Aphasia or not."

Ella sucks strawberry juice off her thumb and leans in, gives her mother a soft kiss on the cheek, a little sigh at her ear. "Love you, Mama."

"Love you too, sweetheart."

"Hey, no!" Dash bursts out. "I _gave_ you some already. Stop stealing my strawberries, little thief."

Kate glances over and realizes she's been used as a cover for a sneak attack; Ellery's wriggling in her seat like she's so pleased with herself, her hands cupping protectively around the three strawberries she stole.

Ella turns and gives Kate a wide-beaming smile. "Mama, keep talking. You're a good distraction."

"_Mala svraka_," Kate laughs.

_My little magpie._


	12. Chapter 12

**Everything That Glitters 2**

* * *

Castle scrubs a hand across his jaw, stares at the stubble in the mirror. Dashiell's Match Day Ceremony is in two hours and even though he wants to look his best, he's tempted to leave the growth. It has this distinguished sprinkle of grey where he used to just get a scruffy brown that didn't look very _beard_. Or manly.

Kate used to tease him. But this is dapper.

He squints an eye, puts the can of shaving cream back down.

"Not-uh," Kate says from behind him. He turns and finds her leaning against the door frame. "Nope. Shave it."

"But it's-"

"Don't make me hurt you."

He sighs and reaches for the can once more, but Kate's skimming her fingers down his bare back, curling at his waist. It's a moment of distraction, his ADD-like tendencies multiplied by age and her nearness, and he finds himself staring at her in the mirror, the sharp edge of her jaw and the soft fall of hair to her shoulders.

She leans in to kiss his bare shoulder, a brush of lips, and then she's disappearing through the doorway.

"Hey, how was breakfast with the kids?"

He can practically hear her startle in the bedroom and he sees her come back to him, her form cut sharply by the bathroom's light.

She twitches her lips. "It was fun."

"Good. You know how I knew?"

"How?"

"When I got up, Nick was in the kitchen looking a little lost."

She laughs then, comes back to him. Her fingers reach for the can of shaving cream and she squirts a puff into her hand, sets it back on the counter. He watches her out of the corner of his eye, and then suddenly she's sliding in between him and the sink, framing his face with her shaving creamed hands.

"What're you doing there, Beckett?"

"Helping you out."

"I'm not sure I want you with a blade near my throat."

She chuckles, tilting her head as she smooths shaving cream under his jaw, back to his ear and sideburns, careful and deliberate and somehow faintly erotic. "I'm sure I don't want to wield the blade either. Just getting you started."

He wraps a finger and thumb around her wrist and makes her pause, her focused gaze tracking up from his neck to his eyes. "Tell me about Ella."

She drops her hands to curl between them. "I didn't get a chance to ask about the financial situation. But soon."

"I meant. About you and Ellery."

"It's like night and day," she admits in a rush, one of those self-conscious smiles lighting up her face. "I didn't realize how much I was letting her get away with. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I think I tried," he laughs a little. "You told me to let her be."

"Surely not that much," she frowns, but the smile slips back and she shakes her head a little, fingers stretching out for his face again. "Come on. We don't have much time."

"Right. Shave. I will."

Kate untangles her hands from his and turns on the faucet with a pass of her elbow; the water runs soft and clear into the basin and she rinses off shaving cream while Castle takes up the razor once more.

She's just slipped out of the bathroom when he remembers.

"Kate!"

"What is it now, Castle?" she huffs, stepping back inside with her fingers caught under the hem of her shirt. "I was about to change."

"Pick out my tie. I couldn't decide - left a few out on the bed."

He watches her leave again in the mirror and then her voice calls out. "What is this? None of these. Jeez, what is wrong with you? You going color blind in your old age?"

He hums to keep from laughing and pulls down one side of his cheek, starts the razor carefully, waiting for her, waiting on it. It'll come. Any second.

"What. Ever. You so did this on purpose."

He grins even as he shaves, can practically hear her rolling her eyes, keeps going until he sees her in the mirror once more. She's holding up his favorite tie - a Father's Day gift from Dashiell.

"You are not wearing this ridiculous T-rex tie to Dashiell's Match Ceremony. No. No, Castle."

Oh, but he is.

He so is.

* * *

He's wearing that ridiculous tie.

Kate sighs but smooths her hand down the silky material, straightens his knot. He leans in, a silent request for a kiss - and also for permission - and she shifts closer to give it. His chest rumbles with pleasure, and Kate narrows her eyes, but the thing is - Dash will probably love the tie.

They stand in the foyer of the Student Union, all of the families grouped off to one side so that the med students can check their mailboxes at the other end. The separation breeds the sense of anxiety that's always been par for the course at this place, but Kate's past caring now that Dash graduates soon. Whatever. Just let her son walk across that stage and she'll forgive a host of injustices all done in the name of 'making good doctors.'

Castle fumbles at her hip until she gives him her hand, fingers lacing, and Kate tries to find Dashiell in the crowd of nervous-looking kids across the way.

Dash is waving at them, energetic and bouncing on his toes, his face split wide in a grin. Kate snorts, but she can't help the reflexive smile on her lips, lifts her arm to wriggle her fingers back at him. Castle, of course, waves with his whole body, like an over-eager kid, like his own son, and Dash flushes with pride.

"Hey, Dad!"

"Hey, kiddo!" he yells back, giving him two thumbs-up. "You got this."

Dashiell beams and turns back to plunge into the sea of bodies, the school's medical students waiting for the Match Ceremony to start. The director is supposed to speak for a few minutes, and then the head of the Neuroscience Department, and Kate's not sure how Dash will survive it, all that tension. He's survived four years of med school, so she assumes he's figured it out.

Shannon ghosts her side and Kate turns, pleased that Dashiell's girlfriend's rather silent ways no longer startle her. She wraps an arm around Shan's shoulders, but the woman is remarkably composed.

"You look like the only one here who's relaxed about this," Kate smiles.

"Well, I'm probably the only one here who knows where she'll be."

"You know?" Kate asks. And then feels dense when she realizes. "Oh, you're right. You do know. With him."

Shannon gives that sly grin she's adopted from Dash himself. "So, whatever is in that mailbox, can't hurt me. I'm good."

Kate wraps her other arm around Shannon and hugs her tightly, kissing her cheek. "You ease my mind," she sighs. "With a girl like you, Dash is going to be just fine."

"Ooh, hush, they're starting," Castle stage whispers, sliding his arms around them and breaking them up. Kate stumbles at his side, knocking him away, shaking her head as he steps between them.

"You hush," she mutters back, but he's right. The Director has come to a raised platform set up near the windows. The microphone is invisible to her eyes, but his voice comes booming out over the speakers.

Kate sense a disturbance and turns her head to see Ellery breaking away from Nick and Sophie, sliding up beside Kate. "Hey, Mom. How long does this last?"

"I don't know," she whispers back. "A couple of speakers, and then some official Ready-Set-Go, I think."

"Poor Dash. This has to be killing him."

Kate hums her laughter, keeping it quiet, and presses her arm against her side to trap her daughter's hand. Ellery doesn't leave her though, stays with her as they listen to the Director's rather obnoxious comments about the elite program at their school. After that comes the Department head with her rambling speech, something about the workings of dendrites and how they form networks, and Kate can tell she's attempting to connect it back to the med students and the network this school has provided them, but it isn't quite getting there.

Dash, however, is right at the edge of the group, a little apart, like he always is, and he looks enthralled. Must be the teacher he's been talking about. Kate knows Dashiell would make an excellent pediatric oncologist, but she can see the inspiration on his face when he talks about neurology.

He's always wondered about his brain, always sought out every possible perspective. His science fair projects for school were always miniature psychology studies. When he was seven, he told her that he thought the color red might be different for everyone, depending on their brains, that _red_ was just a label for whatever the world agreed on, but that it might be what someone else called blue or green or brown. Impossible to know, he told her, and he looked so happy about it - the mystery.

Castle was the one to take him to the private library and pull out books on light waves, filling his head with the facts. She remembers Dashiell coming home and chatting with her non-stop about cones and rods, electromagnetic radiation and the visible spectrum; she remembers the way he hung on Castle's every word and followed him docilely to the computer for more research. They spent all winter talking about light, about how the brain interprets those messages, and even if she had to suffer through some insistent and repetitive questions, it was who Castle took the time to whet his thirst, to make discovery like a treasure hunt.

And now here they are.

There's a sudden shout and she realizes the speeches are over and the whole group of soon-to-be graduated medical students are rushing towards the other end of the Student Union. She can't help leaning closer to Castle, her breath a little caught in the excitement and dread, and she spots Dash right away, hanging back, staying out of the thick of it.

Poor baby. He can't stand the crowds, but she sees him edging around a knot of students, trying to get to his own mailbox. She bites her bottom lip until he disappears down the long row of boxes, out of her view.

"Go, Dash, go," Ella mumbles under her breath. Kate laughs at the old joke, squeezes her daughter tighter against her side. A few of the med students have already gotten their match cards and are heading back for family members, shrieks, tears, good and bad. Mostly, everyone looks relieved to finally know.

"Come on, Dash," Castle mutters beside her. "Just shove through, kiddo."

He must still be able to see their son, hanging back, edging around. The Student Union is one of those vast, echoing halls, lots of tile, and the sounds vibrate around the room, bounce off people and tables. It's exactly the worst kind of place for him, and she knows he's avoided it for four yeas. Shannon is the one who always checks his mail. Anything to cut down on his stress levels, lower his anxiety.

And then she sees Dashiell, heading fast back for them, his face completely expressionless.

"What does _that_ look mean?" Ellery calls out, pushing past Kate and meeting her brother. Castle drifts forward as well, but Kate hangs back, waits until she knows.

Dashiell holds up his match card, but Shannon steps into Kate, brushing at her side, maybe not quite as stoic and confident as she claimed. Kate hooks her arm through Shannon's and raises her eyebrow to her son.

"What does it say?" she murmurs.

Castle grips him by the shoulder, pulls him in. "Yeah, where are you going?"

He shoots them a chagrined smile. "I haven't looked yet."


	13. Chapter 13

**Everything That Glitters 2**

* * *

Castle lets go of Dash and hooks his arm around Kate instead. The kid is holding his card in both hands and staring down at it, and Castle knows from experience that he'll only dig in and set his jaw if Castle tries to push him.

Like his mother.

Shannon seems to have learned that same lesson because she doesn't say anything other than his name, and she goes to his side even as their whole family crowds around, encircling Dashiell like a protective shield.

Nick and Ellery at one side, he and Kate at Dash's other, Alexis and Rafe, Sophie and Dani, little Mia on her feet but with her head leaning against her father's knee. Everyone is here; it's the only way for Dash. He has always wanted his people around him.

His eyes lift to Castle's, and he must get some kind of confidence or nudge from whatever he sees there - could just be Castle's exasperation - and then Dashiell rips open the match card.

His hands don't even tremble. He's totally steady as he stares down at his fate.

Yeah, Castle's getting a little dramatic, but it's his kid's life - where he'll be for the next four years of his residency. And then after that, he'll specialize, which means another year to three years there, or maybe even somewhere else entirely. All up in the air, all comes down to this moment.

Castle's just gotten his daughter back in New York, he got Allie back here as well, and since Shannon is going with Dash, Castle doesn't even have _that _to bring him back. He doesn't want to lose his son to whatever life New Mexico might hold for him.

And Dashiell is still just staring down at his fate.

Shannon grabs his wrist and draws the card over so she can read it, her cheeks flushing bright pink, her mouth twisting in something that Castle can't even read.

"Dash, come _on_," Ellery complains.

"Leaving us in suspense, my man," Castle says, lifting his eyebrows.

"Yeah, let's have it. Where are you going? New Mexico?" Rafe is leaning in over Shannon's shoulder trying to read the card and then Mia stumbles around his feet and he has to stoop down to pick her up.

"Dash," Kate says then.

Their son grins even wider and flips the card around, holds it against his chest. "I'm staying in New York. Langone Medical."

Kate lets out a little gasp. Castle laughs and grabs for his son, hugging him hard, clapping his back. "Awesome. That is awesome."

Kate takes Dashiell from him, her arms sliding between him and their son, and she kisses his cheek, leans back to smudge the gloss from his skin. "Which path does that set you on?"

"Neuro. It's the surgery internship," he grins. "I'm gonna be a neurosurgeon right here at home."

* * *

The Old Haunt hasn't changed in ten years, not since they remodeled the second floor into a family friendly dining area. That's where the Castles go to celebrate Dashiell's Match Day, taking over the space and spreading out across four tables.

Tio and Lanie arrive soon after the caterers set up the buffet, and then Ryan, Jenny and the boys are clattering up the stairs right after them. Kate finds a corner with Mia and Collin's three year old, helping to settle them down with crayons and blank sheets of paper. She watches little David dig his red into the page, scribbling fiercely, but he's still young enough to think coloring is cool, and Jenny wanders over to spell Kate.

"Thanks," she murmurs, sinking down into the seat across from them.

"You guys have him all week?"

"Just until Collin's back from the rig," Jenny says, a touch defensively, but Kate understands. At least Collin has a job now, even if he's on an oil rig in the Gulf for months at a time; after his girlfriend died in the car accident, he's been hit or miss on holding a steady job.

Kate leans in and kisses Mia's bowed head, runs her fingers through David's hair and winks at him. He looks just like Collin did at that age.

"Mama," Mia whines for a second, holding up a purple crayon.

"You color, sweetheart. David needs a friend to show him how to draw his family. You make such beautiful pictures."

Mia, always looking for a chance to be as bossy as her sisters, dives into that task with gusto, nudging David's elbow and loudly proclaiming her superior drawing skills.

Kate leaves them to it, squeezing Jenny's shoulder, and she goes to find her son in the middle of the family melee. He's holding court with Sophie, the two of them trading off as ever, but now there's Ellery in it too, making snarky comments whenever they open their mouths, the whole place laughing.

Kate stands on the fringe, watching her kids bicker with each other, and then she feels an arm around her waist in a brief hug, turns to find Rafe.

"Oh, hey," she laughs, patting his forearm. "Not who I was expecting. How's it going?"

"Good. I'm a little bummed you didn't ask me to cater." He lets her go and crosses his arms over his chest.

She shakes her head at him, nudging his shoulder. "You're too much. No way am I giving you more work. Allie would kill me."

Rafe has a comical wince at that. "Ah, yeah. You heard?"

"Two restaurants now? You and Maddie going in together."

"And Russell Martin. It's sports themed, this one, so it's more of a bar than a restaurant."

"Like this place," Kate smirks. She's always had to pry information out of Rafe, but once he starts in one something he loves, he gives freely.

"Yeah, actually. Ever since Rick gave The OH over to me, I've - I don't know. I love it. The combination of pub and family place. The new one will be a dance floor at night - but not some crappy club. Just - classy stuff. A place you take your date, not where you pick up a slut."

Kate smiles at that, but it sounds like Rafe knows exactly what he's doing. "Madison's lucky she has you for a chef."

"We're equal partners in this one," he says then, holding back a pleased smirk. But Kate can see it.

"I'm proud of you," she says softly, reaching out to embrace him for it. "I know you'll make it something special."

He chuckles in her ear, a little sigh accompanying it. "Thanks. Mom."

She laughs and sinks back down on her feet, just in time to feel Castle hook his arm around her neck and give a pathetic little growl. "Rafe. I swear, man. You only get one of the Castle women."

"I've been working my wiles on Ellery. Should I go back to that?"

"Please do," Castle says eagerly. "We'll see what Nick's made of."

Kate bursts into laughter, a faint blush rising in her cheeks anyway, and she turns in Castle's embrace, throwing it off as she goes, to grip him by the ear. "Rick Castle."

"What?" he whines. "Just protecting my claim."

Her eyebrow lifts so high she can practically feel it arching off her forehead, and behind her, Rafe chuckles and makes a comment about getting back to it, leaving them alone.

"You know it's true," Castle whispers, knocking his forehead into hers and dislodging her grip. "I staked you out long, long ago, Detective Beckett."

The blush returns with a vengeance, a deep warmth that skitters down to her toes this time, more arousal than embarrassment. It's been like this lately - a random moment will flip her heart for him, her stomach flutter. Like never before. She was _never_ this stupid for him, over him.

Was she?

"What's that for?" he grins, nudging into her to kiss her cheek. Too chaste for her, too quick.

"You keep bull-dozing right through my walls, Writer Boy," she murmurs back. She presses her mouth to his, lets herself linger over the satin of his lips before she pushes deeper. He hums and it rumbles in his chest, lovely shivers traveling up and down her spine.

"I think by now you could at least give me the title of Writer _Man_," he sighs. "Since old age has claimed me."

She grins against his mouth, nips at him again. "Never."

His hands skate down her back and squeeze, make her laugh a little and arch into him.

"Never?" he murmurs, for her ears only.

"Old age can't have you. I claimed you first."

"Ahh," he murmurs. "I was wrong then. I didn't stake out _you_. You staked out me."

She wraps both arms around his neck and watches that deep gray swirl in the blue of his eyes. He's grinning too. "Oh, Rick. You have no idea."

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you so much for following me into the future of the Dash Universe!


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